Unusually Modern
by GranthamGal
Summary: Robert and Cora experiment with some modern technology.


A/N: Okay, so. This is basically smut. Way more smut than I usually write. So, enjoy at your own risk because SMUT AHOY.

* * *

The breakfast table was unusually full that morning, and as Edith sat chatting animatedly with her father, Cora attempted to keep one ear on the conversation, though she was admittedly rather distracted. Scraping her knife against the plate, picking up bits of fruit slowly, methodically, she winced again, feeling the same twinge in her neck that had been paining her since the day before. But it wouldn't do to dwell on such a small thing; no, she had a full day of tasks to attend to, and there was little time for minor ailments to derail her schedule. There was a linen delivery coming in that needed approving, menus for the rest of the week to go over, and she also planned to do a final walkthrough of the cottage that had been prepared for Carson and Mrs. Hughes. She had worked through pains much greater than this, and would do so today as she always did, with quiet grace and determination.

"Edith darling," Cora interrupted, making her way back into the conversation. Her daughter looked up, but she paused, shifting her shoulder slightly, feeling a pull there, before continuing, "what time will you be back from London this evening?"

Swallowing a sip of tea, Edith set her cup back onto the table and smiled. "Probably right before the gong. I'll catch the three o'clock if I'm lucky."

"And you don't want to stay the night with Rosamund? The children will be fine," Robert said.

Cora smirked at her husband's confident assurance. Ever since Tom and Sybbie had left—which she knew had been rather difficult for them all, but particularly so for Robert—he truly had made an effort to spend more time with the children. George, so sweet and quiet and the absolute antithesis of his mother, had taken to asking his nanny to dress him "like Grandpapa," on the days when Robert would allow him to come along on trips into the village or to the farms. And Marigold, the dear little girl, would toddle over to her grandfather and ask shyly, "story?" holding the book of fairytales that Sybbie had gifted to she and George before she left. They were all a family, and though Cora never liked to comment on how life seemed to be moving along with pleasant ease lately, lest fate be tempted to turn things around, they had all settled into a comfortable quiet at Downton, and for that she was endlessly grateful.

Agreeing with her husband, Cora interjected as well. "Yes, darling, we can certainly watch the children for one night if that's what you're worried—" she paused mid-sentence, again feeling an uncomfortable twinge, and winced.

"—Mama?" Edith's voice in concerned question drowned out Robert's equally concerned _"Cora?" _and they both looked at her, frowning in comical symmetry, expectantly.

"I'm fine, darlings," she answered, bringing up a hand to squeeze the base of her neck.

"Cora, whatever is the matter?" Robert asked, ignoring her nonchalance.

"It's silly," she replied haltingly. Still, they both looked at her. "You'll think me old," she muttered, looking down at her plate.

"Cora—" this time his tone had an air of warning.

She looked up and pursed her lips. "I was in the nursery yesterday and when we finished with our story, George wanted me to pick him up so he could look out the window. He wanted to see if he could watch your car coming back from the village. When I picked him up, I pulled a muscle in my back. Or, well, my neck. But I'm perfectly fine, and I'll thank you both not to mother me." Cora looked pointedly at Robert who had, since his own minor health scare, been almost annoyingly aware of both their health and seemed intent on monitoring each and every little spasm.

Edith smiled kindly at them both and stood, dropping her napkin onto the vacated seat. "Well, it's no matter. I'm already decided on coming back this evening. I promised Marigold that I would read her bedtime story tonight. I hope you feel better, Mama," she called back as she walked through the door that Carson held open.

Robert and Cora shared an indulgent grin as Carson closed the door and they both listened to their middle child's footsteps disappear down the hall. It had been a journey for Edith, and not an easy one—of that Cora was quite sure. But it pleased them both to no end that their daughter seemed to have finally found a modicum of contentment. They both knew that she was lonely. Marigold filled her days and her heart, of course, but Cora and Robert had each, on occasion, happened upon Edith with a far away look in her eye, and they knew that she still had moments of pain.

They all did, of course, but it was a parent's burden to watch their children suffer. But Edith had done quiet enough of that. And so they both tried to keep her as happy as possible, Cora asking for help with tasks around the house, and Robert spending time with she and Marigold. Hopefully an afternoon in London with Rosamund would cheer her as well.

As Cora turned back to her breakfast, she could feel Robert's eyes on her. Without looking up, she sighed. "I'm fine, darling," she said quietly, not wanting to discuss her silly ailments any further now that Carson had returned.

Robert hummed noncommittally, and only furrowed his brow. "Have you spoken to Clarkson?"

"No of course not," she sighed again, dangerously close to exasperation. "Do I need a doctor to tell me that I'm getting on in age? It's too embarrassing for words, Robert. And you making a fuss won't help things."

"Yes, well—" he stood, clearly having had enough medical talk for one morning, and motioned for the footman to take his plate away. "I must be getting on. I've a meeting at Longmeadow Farm in an hour."

"Have a lovely day," Cora replied, tilting her cheek up to meet her husband as he moved round the table and leaned down to kiss her.

"I will," he smiled, brushing his thumb against her cheek. Then, adopting a sterner gaze, added, "and if you're not feeling better by tomorrow, I'll call Clarkson myself."

Scoffing loudly, Cora only waved him off, rolling her eyes as he exited the room, leaving her to the rest of her breakfast and silent musings on the various annoyances of getting older.

* * *

By the time Edith returned from London, glowing with pleasure after a new haircut and afternoon spent shopping with Rosamund, the gong had already rung and Cora was nearly finished dressing for dinner. Baxter was setting the last of her hair with a delicate pin as her daughter knocked excitedly on the door, and Cora turned to see her enter with a large parcel when she called for her to come in.

Dismissing her maid, Cora stood and crossed the room to greet Edith, pulling on her dinner gloves as she embraced her quickly.

"Did you have a lovely time, darling?"

"I did rather," Edith answered, flopping down onto the edge of the bed. "And I've brought you a present."

"A present?" Cora raised her brow in question, eyeing the nondescript brown package that Edith held tightly.

She nodded and extended the box toward her mother. "Open it," she replied.

Cora could see the excitement etched across her daughter's brow, and so she sat beside her, patting her shoulder in thanks, and accepted the parcel, pulling at the simple brown paper until it gave way, revealing a medium-sized box with a brightly colored design on it.

_Polar Club: Electric Vibrator _

_The A.C. Gilbert Co. New York, USA_

Cora studied the words, flipping the box over and attempting to make sense of it. A picture of a woman holding some sort of device against her neck was etched across the top, and there was various lettering extoling the myriad virtues of the product as well. Baffled, she turned back to her daughter who seemed to be awaiting praise.

"Edith darling, what is it?"

Her daughter laughed, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, and pointed at the picture. "It's a device intended to soothe sore muscles," she explained, launching into a story about how she'd found it at Selfridges and how the salesman promised that it would _"soothe all your troubles away."_

"I thought it would help with your neck," she continued, pulling the package away from her mother and back into her lap. "Let's open it—" she began, attempting to remove the binding from the sides.

Laughing, Cora stood. "Maybe later, darling? You really should go get dressed. I'll try to make sense of this after dinner. Perhaps your father can help me."

Edith shrugged but did as she was bid and settled the box onto the bed. "I do hope it helps, Mama. Aunt Rosamund was with me when I found it and she said she has one—though when I told her about your neck she said she wasn't sure if it would help that sort of thing."

"Hm. Well, I suppose anything is worth a try," Cora replied, rubbing at her neck again as she walked Edith to the door. "If I keep along like this, I fear I'll be as stiff as a board come morning."

* * *

Dinner was a long, dull affair. Cora had floated in and out of conversation with Edith, seated to her left, and Lord Merton who was on her right. It seemed the relationship between he and Isobel was tenuous at best as of late, and the rest of the table seemed to sense this—leaving everyone to speak of general, nondescript things like the weather and the new flowers being planted in the gardens.

And as the night had gone on, course after course being brought in the usual fashion, Cora felt the tightness in her neck increase each time she turned back and forth, the muscles protesting against her rigid posture and constant movement.

By the time dinner, drinks, and more polite post-dinner conversation were finished and everyone began to retire to bed, Cora had forgotten completely about Edith's earlier visit to her bedroom and the package left on the bed. So when she did arrive upstairs, rather exhausted and more than a bit sore, she was surprised by its presence on her duvet, and finally sat down, looking curiously at the box and trying to make better sense of it than Edith had.

Pulling off her gloves, Cora lay back against her pillows, relishing the softness against her skin and the freedom to slouch backward without a care for proper comportment and such. The box opened easily on one side—the side that Edith, of course, had not tried, and Cora slid out a rather complicated looking contraption, mystified as to how it even turned on, much less how it might improve anything at all.

She looked at the device, unusually modern amid the traditional décor of her bedroom, and fingered the odd metallic curves, holding up the long power cord with a frown. It had a brightly colored handle attached to a wide grey surface, with something protruding from that as well. It looked utterly foreign to her, and she dropped it on the bed beside her and closed her eyes as the sound of Robert's dressing room door opening drew her from the precipice of rest.

"What's that you've got there?" Robert asked immediately, always quite like a child around new gadgets.

Blinking one eye open, Cora watched as he crossed the room, curious, and sat beside her on the bed, reaching for whatever it was.

"I don't know," she sighed in response, rolling her shoulders back in an attempt to relieve some pressure. "Edith brought it back from London. It's supposed to help with back pain, or something."

"Oh." Immediately less interested, Robert twirled the device round in his hands and looked perplexedly at it. "How does it work?"

Again, Cora shrugged. "I haven't the slightest idea, though I wish I did," she answered, reaching for it and looking wistfully. "My neck is just killing me."

Robert frowned. "I told you to go see—"

"—And I told you," Cora interrupted, "that I'm not going to see the doctor each time I pull a muscle."

Robert, endlessly stubborn Robert, rolled his eyes—always unwilling to accept the trait in anyone but himself. "Fine, be that way." He untied his robe and tossed it haphazardly on the chair, kicking off his slippers as well. "Want me to help you with that thing?" He grinned, watching as she tried to untangle the cord, and reached for the box, studying the instructions as Cora had done only a few minutes earlier.

"What an odd device," he muttered, tossing the box onto the floor. He was, as always, the type who disregarded printed instruction in favor of testing things out on his own.

Holding out a hand, he waited for Cora to pass it to him and then set about moving the bedside table slightly, so that they might reach the power outlet hidden behind. Though plugging in the device meant losing one of the lamps, the room was still moderately bright, even after Robert unplugged it. Swapping it out in favor of their new gadget, they both looked expectantly as he pushed the plug into the outlet.

Nothing happened.

The cord was more than long enough to reach, and so it sat atop the bed, plug reaching down the side and to the outlet, unmoving.

"Is something supposed to happen?" Robert asked after a pause, poking at it with one finger. He hated when things didn't work properly.

"I certainly don't know." Cora picked it up and turned it over again, inspecting the silly thing once more. "Oh, there's a switch here." She pointed to the tiny red button and flipped it up, dropping the appliance in surprise when it began to vibrate steadily.

"Steady on," Robert laughed, picking up the now moving device. "But what do you _do _with it?" He asked, letting it dangle by its cord.

"I told you I don't know," Cora laughed in reply, moving to sit up on her knees and grab for it. Robert handed it over without a fight, finding it an entirely strange thing anyway, and watched as Cora looked it over. Reaching up, she pressed the small circular end against the back of her neck and dipped her head forward until her chin touched her chest.

She waited, letting the quiet hum fill the room.

Robert sat watching, his interest piqued once more.

"—Is it helping?" He asked after only a moment, impatient with no task to do.

"I—I'm not sure," she answered, feeling the vibrations float away from the epicenter of the device. "Can you hold it against my neck? I can't quite reach far enough."

"Yes, alright." Robert crawled across the bed on his knees until he was sat behind Cora, and took the instrument out of her hands, looking randomly at her back before selecting a central spot and applying the device with some light pressure.

"Good?"

"Hmm, yes," came her reply after a pause. Again, Cora tilted her head downward and hunched her shoulders forward, concentrating on little else beyond the pulsation against her skin and the slowly loosening muscles in her neck. Suddenly, indeed, rather suddenly, it felt good. Yes, it felt rather good indeed. It was quite unlike anything she had ever felt before. Usually when she or Robert had a sore back or neck, the other would happily attempt to massage the pain away. That was always lovely. This—this, though, was something else entirely.

Robert was certainly content to help his wife, but he would have been lying if he said he was not a little dubious at the device's actual healing properties. It seemed almost like a kitchen gadget (not that he would know what to do with one of those either), but Cora seemed at least slightly more relaxed, so he supposed it was worth continuing on with.

"It's really helping?"

"Goodness, yes."

Robert's attention began to wane once more. Dropping the device down a bit lower, he began to draw small circles into her back, remembering that she'd said earlier her shoulders were paining her as well. He could have sworn that Cora shivered, but before he could look more closely, she exhaled again, deeply. His gaze wandered round the room, taking in the soft tones and warm fire, until Robert realized that the noise that did occupy their space was not only coming from the mechanism in his hand. Cora was humming lowly, purring, almost, quite like the little device.

"Cora, are you alright?" he asked, drawing it away from her for a moment and flipping the power switch down.

She started at the loss of contact and sat upright, stretching and looking over her shoulder at him. "I'm better than fine, darling—"

"It sounded like you were in pain."

Cora chuckled and patted his leg, pleased at the concerned look painted across his visage. "No, darling. Not at all. Quite the contrary, actually."

"Oh. Well, if you're sure."

He turned the switch back up and placed the device against her back again, frowning when after a moment the sound started up again. It sounded almost like—

No. No, it couldn't possibly—

Again, he switched off the device and dropped it onto the bed. "Cora are you quite certain that you're not in _pain_?"

This time she looked slightly perturbed. "Didn't I just tell you that I was fine?"

"If you're not hurt, are you…that is…" he was lost for words, but she looked at him expectantly. "Are you _enjoying _this?" he muttered, emphasizing certain words in the hopes that she would understand his meaning. It was unlike them to speak plainly about such matters. Of course they did, but sometimes it still made Robert rather self-conscious. Even now, even after all these years. But by the blush that immediately painted her cheeks, Robert knew that she understood what he meant. Cora looked away, muttering something about her back still hurting, as Robert's mouth dropped open.

"I don't know why you're looking at me like that," she answered finally, grabbing the device out of his hands and looking down at her feet, feeling rather warm.

"It's just—I—I've only ever heard you make that sound when we…when we're…_together_," he whispered, as though scandalized.

Her blush deepened. "Well, it felt quite nice," Cora allowed. "Not as nice as, well, you know. But, still."

"Really?" Robert looked suspiciously at the offending item.

Cora nodded.

"Alright. Well, turn around, then," he murmured, picking it back up.

"Really?"

He nodded, albeit slowly.

Happily, Cora did as she was told and allowed her husband to redraw the circles around her back and shoulders, delighting in the feel against her skin, though still somewhat surprised that such an odd little thing could produce such a pleasing sensation. They passed several moments in companionable silence, Cora nearly in a trancelike state. And then he dropped it lower, pressing against the middle of her back and drawing downward until it was pressed against her lower back.

"Robert—I—ah—ah—" Cora squirmed, attempting to push herself forward, the sensation growing rather too strong, but she felt Robert's free arm snake around her waist, drawing her backward into his lap.

"Shhh," he replied softly, "just relax."

She could tell by his tone that he knew how much it had begun to affect her.

And Robert, for his part, could hardly say that the situation had not once again grabbed his attention. Cora's throaty humming against his chest was enough to distract him on any day, but to feel her so boneless, so relaxed in his arms was an intoxication of an entirely different sort.

Slowly, very slowly, she began to rock back and forth against the little mechanism pressed against her lower back, dropping her head backward until it lolled against his shoulder. "Darling," she whispered, lips pressed to his neck, "that feels marvelous."

Robert grinned, please to be at least partly the source of her pleasure, and began to roll the head of the device up her side, as slowly as he could manage, and away from her back—until it rested just above her stomach and beneath her breasts.

With practiced movements, though he'd never quite attempted to seduce his wife in this manner, Robert made small circles round her belly, feeling the pulsating device against his hand as Cora arched her back away from him, groaning rather loudly as he hit the sensitive spot that was nearly always her undoing when he touched her there just himself.

She moaned again and he paused. What—what were they doing? He realized the situation they were in, suddenly, and paused. Life had been content lately, certainly, and he and Cora had often come together in the stillness of her room, late at night and wrapped up in blankets. But, he frowned, realizing he could hardly remember her making such a sound. And he would be lying to say that hearing it now did not affect him. God, how she always affected him so. Now, pushing back against his arms, her sweet smelling hair in his nose and the warm weight of her body settled in his lap—yes, it affected him, and he blushed to realize just how much he wanted her.

Cora, obviously unwilling to wait for him to resume their little game, began to rock back and forth in his lap, bringing a hand up to where his was splayed over her chest, and removed the little machine from his grasp, dropping it to the side of them. "Darling—" she hummed again, pressing herself against the hardness between his thighs and felt a sharp pull deep in her belly as his hands, large and calloused, made smooth passes up and down her sides, grasping tightly at the silky material of her nightdress and pushing it upward, until it bunched around her lap.

Her back pressed to his stomach, rubbing as she moved back and forth, was incredibly arousing and Robert reached both his hands around Cora's waist and snaked them under her nightdress, scratching lightly upward until he grasped at her breasts, pulling her backward against him, feeling the weight of her, the softness, against his palms. Cora cried out, then, as his fingers made passes over her nipples, plucking firmly as she wriggled again.

"God—Robert."

And then, just then, pressing kisses to her shoulder, his hands still moving hungrily against her, he caught a glint of silver beside them—the blasted device reappearing once again to interrupt his thoughts. But—perhaps it need not be such a hindrance to their evening. It had, after all, produced a rather pronounced reaction in his wife. Robert stole another look, the glimmering metal calling to him as an idea took root in his head.

"Cora, darling," he whispered, teeth scraping the soft skin of her ear. "Turn over and lean against the pillows." His voice, instructive and firm, left no room for questions, and Cora, though looking at him curiously, abided by his simple request.

Settled against the pillows, she watched as Robert moved to unbutton his nightshirt and quickly realized that he was more _ready _than perhaps she had realized. So, hoping to speed things along, she moved to grasp the bottom of her nightdress to draw it up over her head. But Robert grasped her wrist as soon as she moved—whispering, "I'll handle all that," as he finished the last button on his own nightclothes and flung the offending garments off toward the floor.

Cora watched as her husband settled before her, patting both her legs so that she might draw them up, her feet pressed against the mattress. He pulled the flimsy dress up over her legs and then her head, gesturing for her to lift her arms as well. And then she lay before him almost completely exposed, her fair skin a stark contrast to the darkness of the room, and a blush still painted across her cheeks.

Leaning forward, Robert kissed her deeply, his hands pulling through her loosely braided hair until the curls were free, fragrantly gathered around her shoulders. He brought his palms to her waist, gripping tightly, pulling her against him until she could feel his hardness against her waist, and they both groaned in turn, each breathless with need.

"Robert, please—" Cora began, but he quieted her with another kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth, the taste of wine from dinner still on his lips. He looked to her eyes but for a second, silently confirming that she was as overcome as he, before he moved his fingers, fumbling and ineffectual, down to her underthings. He broke the kiss and sat up again, looking at her with a wolfish grin. Hooking two fingers around each end, he tugged them down quickly, without preamble or any thought to drawing out the process. Cora chucked at his speed, nearly laughing at the look of determination on his face, but any sort of coherent speech was lost when he flung that garment, too, onto the floor, and immediately dipped his head lower and touched his tongue to the juncture between her legs.

Crying out, Cora arched her back again and reached at her sides to grab at the sheets, anchoring her in place. The room suddenly felt hot—far too hot—and the air was thick with the heady pleasure of their coupling. Robert moved below her, intently, methodically, even, and Cora couldn't imagine quite what had gotten into him. When she began to squirm under his touch, he brought his hands around each leg to hold her still.

"Robert, I—I—can't—"

He chuckled, his breath puffing out against her skin, and raised his head, pressing feather light kisses to her belly. "You certainly can," he replied. "But this isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"Oh, of course." Cora attempted again to sit up slightly, just a bit, so that she might draw her legs up and make their joining easier, but he held her in place, still wearing the devilish grin that unnerved Cora more than she cared to admit.

"Robert? What are you—"

Again she was brought to silence as he sat up and reached for the silvery little device that was still lying unassumingly beside them. Biting his lip in concentration, Robert untangled the cord once more and flipped it over, reaching for the power switch. Cora was about to tell him that the last thing she wanted was another neck massage when the silly little thing began to hum again and her husband, with an air of incredible seriousness and intention, drew it down over her belly, lower and lower, until it reached the place where his tongue had only just been.

"Oh—oh—my—" was all Cora could breathe out, her teeth biting desperately into her lower lip, which soon swelled from the pressure. The sensation, oh, God, the delicious sensation was quickly pushing her into sensory overload as Robert continued to tease her, moving the device in slow circles at the juncture between her thighs. She cried out, over and over, feeling her legs shake with the effort, and continued to move beneath his ministrations, hungrily, intently, until she thought she could take no more. He continued, changing the patterns ever so often and pressing kisses to her legs and stomach, murmuring her name and reaching up to palm her breasts as well.

Cora, feeling a swell of pleasure overcome her, finally cried out again, his name in halting, breathy tones as she bucked against his hand. And then he slowed his movements even more, finally dropping the blessed instrument down, and smiled sweetly at her, moving his body up and over her until they were face to face so that he might kiss her—deeply, lovingly intensely.

She felt an ache, keenly, where she so desperately wanted him, and again felt Robert, hard, against her belly. "Darling," was all she needed to say before he was inside her, groaning with exertion and the blissful feeling of completion, her legs hooked round him as he pushed into her with delirious abandon—calling her name over and over in the heat of their passion.

It was all over rather quickly, Robert thrusting into her a final time before he cried out once more and collapsed against her, panting, their skin slick and warm. He brought a finger down to where they were joined, and she whimpered softly. He moved in slow circles, a sweet parody of the intense sensations of earlier, but it was all she needed. And with another circle, his lips applied to her neck as he kissed the delicate skin there and whispered her name once more; it was all she needed to come undone again, crying out his name like a delicious prayer upon her lips.

They gave way to exhaustion soon after that, limbs buckling in glorious fatigue as they lay back against the mussed bed sheets and soft mattress. Breath heavy and skin still aflame, they slept greedily, pressed together in dreamless slumber.

* * *

Come morning, the breakfast table was once again full.

Robert had plans to head into York and had quite easily convinced his wife to come along when they woke that morning, with the promise of tea and some shopping. Edith wandered in soon after her parents, looking fresh after a good night's rest and the haircut she'd only just had in London, and sat happily across from her mother.

Chatting amiably, they all discussed their plans for the day, and Cora's idea to take the children into London over the coming weekend to a show at the theatre in Covent Garden. It looked to be another quiet, lovely day.

It was Edith, however, who broke the lazy reverie of the room. Settling down her fork and knife, she looked up at her mother and adopted a look of great concern, asking, "Mama, how is your neck doing today?"

Cora had the good sense to keep her eyes trained on her plate, for she felt a heated blush spread across her face and chest at even the slightest hint of what had occurred between she and Robert the night before. And the blush doubled over when she considered their conversation just that morning, and her promise to return the favor to _him_ that evening.

"—Mama?" Edith was undeterred.

"—I think that it's fine, darling. Cora, dear, didn't you say it was fine?" Robert interjected, dropping his silverware in awkward haste. The metal fork clanged loudly against his plate and Edith looked at them both in bemused silence.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Cora raised her gaze and smiled across the table at her daughter. No, no she would not be embarrassed. And why should she be? Smiling over at her husband, she felt inexplicably lucky, as well as still terribly flushed.

"Yes, darling, your father is right. I'm feeling much better today. That little device really did the trick."

Edith glimmered with the pride of being helpful. "I'm so glad."

"Yes, as am I," Cora answered, her voice measured. "In fact, I may have your father try it tonight. He's been complaining of a twinge, too."


End file.
